A Rumble Beneath

In the pulsing heart of Metro Manila, amidst the relentless bustle of its densely packed streets, Elijah Reyes was the embodiment of ordinary. At 23, he had yet to find his calling, wandering the fringes of a society obsessed with the extraordinary. In a world where Gurdians—beings with abilities far beyond human norms—ruled supreme, Elijah was starkly mundane. Every day, he threaded his way through crowds of remarkable people to his job at a small café favored by Guardianss for its proximity to one of the city's frequent dungeon portals. It was here, among tales of valor and supernatural feats, that Elijah felt most invisible. He cleaned tables and served coffee, his presence barely noted, his mind always wandering to the 'what ifs' of having power. Today, however, was different. As he wiped down a sticky table, a news alert flashed across the café's TV, cutting through the hum of conversation. A new dungeon had emerged in Quezon City, and it was unstable. The urgency in the broadcaster's voice sent a shiver down Elijah's spine. Such events were common, but the fear never quite faded. Dungeons were dangerous; they were the hunting grounds of the elite, not places for someone like him. He continued his work mechanically, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. The café began to empty as Guardians left to either watch the event or participate in it, hoping for glory and treasure. Closing time couldn't come soon enough. Elijah locked up and started his walk home. The streets were unnervingly quiet; everyone was either glued to their screens at home or at the scene of the new dungeon. The sun had set, and the streetlights flickered on, casting long shadows that twisted with the branches of the overhead trees. The ground trembled suddenly. It was slight at first, then undeniable. Elijah stopped, his heart pounding, as a deep rumbling filled the air. People emerged from buildings, looking around in confusion. Then, just a block ahead of Elijah, the earth cracked open, a wide fissure slicing through the concrete. Monstrous creatures, like those from nightmares, spilled out, their roars slicing through the city's usual din. Panic ensued. People screamed and ran, scrambling for safety. Guardians who had stayed behind mobilized, their powers flaring up to meet the emerging threat. Caught in the turmoil, Elijah found himself running towards the fissure. Every instinct screamed for him to turn away, but the crowd pushed him forward, closer to the chaos. A creature loomed before him, its eyes a glowing scarlet, its claws slick with dark ichor. Elijah's breath hitched. He was no Guardian. He had no abilities. He was going to die. But death did not come. A figure cloaked in shadow darted forward. The Guardians's movements were fluid, a dance of power and grace. With a wave of his hand, he summoned a gust of wind that swept the creature off its feet, slamming it into the concrete wall with a sickening crunch. Elijah watched, transfixed. The Guardian's skill was unlike anything he'd seen, a command of the air itself. As the Guardian moved to confront another beast, Elijah felt an inexplicable pull, an echo in his very soul. In the safety of a nearby alcove, he focused on the sensation. To his astonishment, his hands trembled, not with fear, but with burgeoning power. A faint current of air whirled around his fingertips. It was weak, untrained, but it was there. Elijah stared at his hands, a mix of fear and wonder coursing through him. What had he just done? Was he like the Guardians now? As the street calmed and emergency services began to take control, Elijah slipped away, unnoticed. His mind raced with possibilities and fears. Tonight had changed everything. He had awakened something within himself, something extraordinary. But what was he supposed to do now?